Dance with the Dragon (18 page)

The room was large, with high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling bookcases, a massive leather-topped desk in front of bowed windows, and a grouping of couch, chairs, and a low table facing a big fireplace in the corner.

Adkins was standing in front of his desk, and Rencke and Gil Perry, who’d been seated on the couch, got to their feet. They’d evidently been alerted to McGarvey’s arrival. Adkins and Perry looked concerned, even a little frightened, but Rencke was fairly vibrating with excitement, stepping from foot to foot, a big grin on his face, his long red hair even wilder than usual. He had the bone in his teeth.

“Did you notice if anyone was interested in you at Dulles?” Adkins asked, almost breathlessly.

“No,” McGarvey said. “And I assume that we’re clean here.”

“We are,” Adkins said. “Did you see the news conference?”

“I was there. What’s the president saying?”

“Nothing yet,” Adkins said. “He wanted to see me first thing this morning. I stalled him until two. Promised that I’d have something for him.”

“Well I certainly hope that Mr. McGarvey has brought something back with him after rambling around my station,” Perry said. “But Newell came as a complete surprise to me, I can tell you that much.”

“What have you come up with?” McGarvey asked mildly. There was no point leaning on the man yet, but he was the COS down there. He had to have found out something.

“Nothing of any substance, I’m afraid. But I don’t have much to go on.”

“One of your senior officers was shot to death and beheaded, and you have his Iranian girlfriend on ice. If you don’t have any of the answers, you sure as hell ought to have come up with a few questions by now.”

“We’ve pulled out all the stops, believe me.”

“Updegraf was working the Chinese connection. According to Shahrzad he was trying to burn General Liu. Now, out of the clear blue sky the Chinese announce an oil deal with us and the Mexicans. Maybe that’s what your man had turned over.”

“Wouldn’t have got him killed.” Perry said indignantly. “They made it public themselves.”

“Are you thinking another nuclear deal like the Russians tried to pull off a few years ago?” Adkins asked.

McGarvey shook his head. “I don’t think so. The Chinese would have too much to lose and nothing to gain. Without us as a trading partner they’d have a tough time keeping up with their own growth.”

“What Russian nuclear deal?” Perry demanded.

“It’s nothing that has any bearing on what’s going on right now,” McGarvey assured him. But he hated coincidences. Shahrzad was Iranian. Her father had been an Iranian intelligence office who knew General Baranov. The shadowy figure Rencke had picked out at Liu’s compound was possibly a Middle Easterner, maybe an Iranian. And in some ways even odder was Gloria’s apartment, located in the hills almost directly above the Iranian embassy.

Rencke shot him an odd look. He was having the same thoughts.

“Heavens, you’re not suggesting that the Chinese government is planning on putting nuclear missiles in Mexico?” Perry asked.

“No,” McGarvey said. He wondered exactly what Perry was so afraid of that he was going to these lengths to cover his ass. As chief of station he had to have known at least something of what Updegraf was doing.

“Well, we’re still faced with the nuclear issue in Iran and North Korea,” Perry reminded them. “Thank goodness not in my bailiwick.”

Nothing had changed since McGarvey had started with the Company. It seemed that a handful of good people did most of the real work, while a lot of the others didn’t have enough imagination or daring to do much of anything other than cover their own asses. The problem was that there never seemed to be enough of the good ones to go around.

And the even bigger problem for McGarvey was that he needed Perry to backstop him, or at least make enough noise in the bush so that Liu and company might be distracted for a bit.

“What about you, Mac?” Adkins asked. Just then his eyes were wide as if he was expecting a nasty surprise. “You wanted us here in secret, so it’s your call, but at this point it looks as if we’re facing nothing more than a political problem. The Chinese want Mexican oil and we can’t allow it. Something for the president and the diplomats.”

That would have been the extent of it as far as McGarvey was concerned, except for the drug cartel banker and the third man at Liu’s party. They didn’t fit.

It always seemed to come down to whom to trust. It was why for most of his career McGarvey had worked alone. But on rare occasions it became necessary to use people, like now with Shahrzad and Gloria. He had to question if the ends really did justify the means, and wonder whether, if he were just a little brighter, a little more mentally agile, he could think of another way to get to the general.

But Liu’s weakness was the women he surrounded himself with. They were his Achilles’ heel. And McGarvey meant to find a way to use that flaw.

“You might be right, Dick, except that Walt Newell was at a party down at Liu’s house in Xochimilco. Lots of drugs and young girls. Could be used against him.”

“Do you know that for a fact?” Perry protested, which McGarvey found slightly odd.

“I was there. I have the pictures of Newell and of a guy by the name of Thomas Alvarez. Otto pulled up his file. The FBI thinks he’s one of the major money launderers for most of the South American drug cartels.”

“Good heavens,” Adkins said. “Have you passed this over to the Bureau?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay, you tell us, what does it mean?” Perry asked.

“You knew nothing about any of this?” McGarvey demanded. “No hints, nothing Updegraf or any of your other people might have mentioned? Any odd little bits that didn’t seem to fit.”

“No.”

“Your office wasn’t informed that Congressman Newell was in Mexico?”

Perry shook his head. He was clearly on edge.

“You don’t have a watch on the Chinese embassy?”

“Not as a matter of routine,” Perry said, his back up finally. “We simply don’t have the budget for that kind of operation. Goodness, we would have to watch every embassy of interest. Certainly the Russians and the North Koreans.”

“Or the Iranian embassy?”

“Yes, of course, them too. But unless there’s a clear reason for such a surveillance operation we don’t do it.” He glanced at Adkins. “If I had been informed earlier of General Liu’s presence in Mexico I would naturally have taken a look.”

“Naturally,” McGarvey said. “But Updegraf was watching the Chinese code clerk, and he was seen with Liu at the compound up in Chihuahua.”

“He never told me any of that,” Perry protested. “I trust my officers, but I’m not a mind reader.”

“No one expects you to be, Gil,” McGarvey said.

Perry was surprised by the sudden conciliatory tack. “We do our best. But sometimes even that’s not good enough, and something like this slips past us.” He looked to Adkins for support. “We’re working the problem, Mr. Director. Believe me, we’ll find out who killed Louis and why.”

“General Liu had him killed,” Rencke broke in. “That’s fairly obvious.”

“We have no proof,” Perry shot back. “I’m not one to go off half-cocked, damn it! We have standard procedures.”

Rencke started to say something else, but McGarvey held him off with a gesture.

“Louis was up to something that involved the Chinese, there’s no doubt of that,” Perry went on. “But exactly what it was, and if it had any bearing on the recent issue with Congressman Newell, is still to be determined. I will not run my station in a panic mode.” He looked again at Adkins. “Until I’m relieved of duty, I will do my job as I see fit,” he said, stiff-necked.

“No one is talking about relieving you,” Adkins said. “We have a problem on our hands, and we need to keep our heads.”

No one offered an objection.

“Newell’s presence at Liu’s house, along with the moneyman for the drug cartels, is nothing short of disturbing,” Adkins said. “But I still don’t understand what it has to do with us. We’re talking about an issue for the FBI, not one of national security. At the very worst the oil business between the Chinese and Mexico does rise to that level, of course. But it’s something that has to be handled in the political arena.”

“Except for Liu’s reputation as a maverick, and Updegraf’s assassination,” McGarvey said.

“He was beheaded,” Perry said.

“You’re suggesting that he was involved in the drug trade?” Rencke asked.

“That’s how they deal with people who get in their way. Or people who double-cross them.” Perry turned to McGarvey. “You mentioned spotting Thomas Alvarez at one of Liu’s parties. There’s your connection. Could be if we look closely enough at the good congressman’s finances, we might find a skeleton or two in his closet.”

“That’s something for the Bureau,” Adkins said. “Could be the president will suggest just that. In the meantime what else do I tell him? He’s going to want some answers; what’s going on down there and what are we doing about it?”

McGarvey had done little else but think about just those questions ever since he’d listened to Shahrzad’s wild story. He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But between the woman’s story, the assassination of one of our people, Liu’s presence, and Otto’s lavender, I’m not going to walk away from it.”

“I’m glad that you’re going to help, but the question remains what do I tell the president this afternoon?”

“I don’t know anything about the oil deal. Could be a separate issue that Liu’s not involved with,” McGarvey said.

“You spotted Newell at Liu’s house,” Adkins pointed out.

“I said that it
could
be a separate issue. Tell the president that you’ve instructed Station Mexico City to put Updegraf’s assassination on the front burner, and in the meantime if the president wants to know what Newell is trying to do, he should ask the good congressman just that.”

“If Liu had Louis killed, for whatever reasons, it might be next to impossible for us to prove anything,” Perry said.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as you make a lot of noise trying to find out what happened.”

“What if the media get onto the story?” Perry asked. “We’ve been lucky so far.”

“Where’s Updegraf’s wife?” McGarvey asked.

“Here in Washington,” Adkins said. “McCann wants her isolated until we find out what happened.”

“Loosen the strings and let her go to the
Post,
” McGarvey said.

“Christ, we’ll have every network, every newspaper, and every tabloid on us like paparazzi on a bad-girl movie star,” Perry protested.

“And I’ll be called to the Hill to find out what the hell we think we’re doing in Mexico,” Adkins said. “It’ll become a media circus.”

“Exactly,” McGarvey said.

Perry suddenly caught McGarvey’s intent. “Leaving you completely out of the spotlight,” he said admiringly. “I like it.”

“I’m glad you approve, Gil,” McGarvey said, unable to keep himself from the small sarcasm, which Perry didn’t catch.

“What about the woman down at Longboat Key?”

“Leave her there for now,” McGarvey said. “I’ll let you know. Meanwhile I want you to terminate Gloria Ibenez. Immediately.”

Perry smiled. “Nothing I’d like better, but it probably won’t be that easy. She’s a lawyer, and she’ll probably sue.”

“Just get rid of her,” McGarvey said. “I’ll take care of the blowback.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

THE WHITE HOUSE

Adkins was shown into the Oval Office a few minutes before two in the afternoon. President Lawrence Haynes, in shirtsleeves, his tie loose, was seated at his desk talking on the telephone, while his national security adviser, Dennis Berndt, stood in front of a television set, the sound turned low, watching an ABC News report on Congressman Newell’s oil-deal announcement.

Aides came and went practically on the run, laying files, documents, and what looked like press clippings on the president’s desk, and rushing back out. The White House was in crisis mode.

Haynes put the phone down. “I hope you’ve got some good news for me, Dick.”

Berndt looked away from the television. “Any news would be appreciated,” he said.

“If you mean the oil thing with Newell, I’m sorry, Mr. President, but that part took us completely by surprise,” Adkins said. “I’ve come over to brief you on the Updegraf situation. And frankly we’re at a loss there as well, although we’ve stumbled across what could turn out to be even bigger news.”

Haynes was a large man, he’d played some football in college, but he’d not let himself go. Despite his schedule he managed to watch his diet and maintain a rigorous routine of workouts every day except Sunday, even when he was traveling.
Air Force One
had been equipped with a small but complete workout center.

He gave Adkins a flinty look, but nodded. “Dennis, I want you to stay, but get everyone else out of here now,” he said. He picked up his phone and told his secretary to hold all calls and visitors, no matter who they were.

As soon as the Oval Office was cleared and Berndt had the door closed, Haynes motioned for Adkins to have a seat in front of the desk. “You have my attention,” he said coolly. No president liked to hear bad news, but this one, unlike a lot of others, never shot the messenger.

“So far we’ve been able to keep the story out of the media, but that’s about to end,” Adkins said. “Which itself isn’t so bad, unless it gets out whose company he was in the night he got shot and beheaded. Evidently he was seen at a party held by a Chinese intelligence officer.”

“The code clerk he was trying to burn?”

“No, sir. This was with General Liu Hung, who we didn’t even know was in Mexico until last week. He’s on the FBI’s persons-of-interest list because of a series of murders in New York and here in Washington. There’s no concrete proof that Liu was involved, but the State Department did send a back-burner warning to the Chinese ambassador, and last year Liu was pulled back to Beijing.”

“Apparently Updegraf was aiming higher than a code clerk,” Berndt said. “What’s General Liu doing in Mexico?”

“We don’t know that yet,” Adkins said. “But there’s more.”

“There always is,” Haynes said. “Continue.”